I'm Sorry
by Lady Evenstar
Summary: Harry gets some help overcoming his demons...but at what cost? Read and Review!!!!


Disclaimer: To the demise of myself and advantage of Ms. Rowling, Harry Potter (and all characters not as important) do not belong to me.

A/N: Reposted this because I wanted to take the story in a different direction than before…there are no new chapters, but I'm finally going to start working on this fic again!

Harry sighed as he struggled with the complex Potions homework, trying vainly to memorize at least fifty ingredients that they were required to learn for tomorrow's brew. Of course, they had had the assignment for at least a week, but Harry had been busy with Quidditch, seeing as how he was now the Captain of the team. Last minute, he had desperately enlisted the help of the Head Girl- who also happened to be one of his best friends, Hermione. The two now sat with their heads bent over potions books in Harry's bedroom.

"Come on, Harry, you're almost there!" urged Hermione. "Only ten more to go!"

Harry groaned. "Let me have a look at the book again."

"Just guess, come on!"

"Ummm…wormwood?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

"Frog Eyes?"

"You've already said that one."

"Ok…oh! I know, five black widows."

"Yes, only eight more then."

"A Dragon scale."

"A Dragon scale that is…"

"Finely chopped. Into two dozen pieces?"

"Right."

Harry closed his eyes listed the ingredients again in his mind, trying to see if there was any he had accidentally skipped.

"Umm…hold on a second…snake's eyes. Red ones."

However, the ingredient had brought to mind a horrible picture. Red eyes, snake eyes, in a humanoid face, haunting his dreams and plaguing his days. Red eyes he had first seen on the back of Proffesser Quirrell's head seven years ago, and now the final horrible touch to a fully functioning Voldemort. A Voldemort he knew he would have to face down, someday soon. A day that he was dreading.

"Harry?" said Hermione gently, her voice compassionate and knowing.

"Huh? I'm sorry," he said, flinching at the weakness in his voice.

"It's alright. Why don't we take a break for a bit, hn?"

"That sounds good," he agreed. Hermione picked up her book- "How to Create Fully Functioning Complex Spells"- and sat down on Harry's bed, flipping through the pages and making various notations on a piece of parchment. Harry sat down beside her, then flopped backwards to stare at the canopy of his bed.

"Is that what you call a break?" he teased her gently. She merely grunted in acknowledgement and continued her work.

"I didn't get to be Head Girl for nothing, you know," she said a few moments later. "You have to *work* hard, not put things off until last minute." She threw Harry a disapproving look.

"I *was* working hard, just not on Potions," countered Harry. "Besides, that's why I have a Head Girl for my friend. So she can tutor me."

Hermione laughed. "Yes, you are lucky, aren't you?"

Harry sat up and peered over her shoulder. "How is that coming along, anyway?"

"Rather well. Hopefully, I can finish it before the next attack." Hermione had been working hard recently, creating a spell that would protect Harry from Voldemort. It utilized the people's love who were closest to Harry, including Sirius, his godfather, Remus, his mentor, and Ron and Hermione, his best friends. It seemed a sure bet, because the one thing that Voldemort didn't understand was love. 'After all,' Hermione had said the day they started the endeavor, 'it was you mother's love for you that saved you, Harry. Maybe love will save you again.'

Maybe. Harry hoped so. Long ago he had come to terms with his destiny- which was to defeat Voldermort, no matter what the cost- but secretly, secretly and quietly he had hoped that the cost wouldn't be his life. Some people regarded him recklessly dangerous when it came to his welfare (especially Madam Pomfrey, who by that time had healed more of Harry's wounds than she could count) but it wasn't true. Harry simply did what he had to do, and that was that. It wasn't as if he *wanted* to die, because he didn't. He had been through so much in his life- he had survived the Dursleys,  Lockhart, and Quidditch, the Dementors, the Tri-wizard Tournament, and the seven attempts Voldemort had made so far on his life- and he wasn't about to sacrifice all that now. Not unless he had to.

Harry flinched and brought his hand up to his forehead, tracing the jagged lightning scar there. It was hurting again. Another life was lost to Voldemort. Nowadays, the throb had been frequent and persistent-Voldemort was gearing up. By now, Harry reckoned, he must have killed at least a hundred people, if not more. Which was why Harry had to defeat him. The fate of the world and all the innocent people that inhabited it were laid upon his, Harry's, shoulders. It was an overwhelming feeling, and Harry often stumbled under the responsibility. It stunned him that so many people had given their lives for him-his Mum and Dad, Cedric, Hagrid- because they believed he was the chosen one. The one who would bring down the most evil Dark Lord to ever grace the face of the earth. To the masses, Harry was a beacon of hope, a heroic figure dressed in radiant robes and wielding the flames of peace and justice in his hands, waging a titanic battle against the dark ignominy that was Voldemort all by himself.

But Harry wasn't holy or titanic. Harry wasn't perfect- he had shameful thoughts just as the rest of humanity, he was a parselmouth, he was most similar to Tom Riddle. He was a nobody, a nothing, just a seventeen year old trying to find his way through the world. So why *him*? Why did *he* have to battle Voldemort? And more importantly, why would anyone ever trust him to do so? Because his parents died, and he survived, over a decade ago? Sometimes, he wished he could see them, just talk to them one more time. Maybe then he could figure this out, with their advice. But he couldn't, he couldn't see them, not ever again, and it was all his fault.

"..rry? Harry!" Hermione was peering anxiously at him, her face inches away from his own, and she was shaking him.

"W-what?" gasped Harry. For a second, he had forgotten where he was, so lost was he in his thoughts.

"You're crying," Hermione pointed out quietly, reaching out to trace a tear down his cheek. "Harry, what's wrong? You've been spacier than normal lately. One minute, we'll be talking, and the next you'll be staring off at nothing, looking as though you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders."

Harry shook his head slowly. "I guess I'm just feeling sorry for myself," he said with a wry smile, his throat strangely tight. "It's just not fair, you know? Why does Voldemort have to ruin everything?"

Hemione looked as if she was about to cry for a moment- her lower lip trembled- but she held herself in, and answered him instead. "I don't know, Harry. But soon, we won't have to worry about him anymore! This spell will work, I know it! It just has to!"

Harry smiled at her. Typical Hermione- there was always an answer to everything, you just had to look for it. Of course the spell would work, because that was the answer. To all their troubles. 

"And you know, Harry, even if it doesn't work-which of course it will- we'll always be here. You don't ever have to face Voldemort alone, because we're here, to help you. You know we love you, don't you Harry?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah. I do."

"Right, so that means we're family, really. And family always sticks together. Voldemort may have all that dark magic on his side- but you, we, have friendship, and that's stronger than anything he can throw at us."

"You're right." That's right, it wasn't just Harry standing alone against Voldemort. Harry had never been alone, not since the beginning. First, his mother was there, and now, his friends were. Harry really wasn't anything special- it was his relationships that made him that way. And it was okay that Harry wasn't perfect, because these people would always be there to catch him when he fell. Sirius, who lived off of rats just to be near him, whom risked being caught again just for Harry. Remus, who spent his free time teaching Harry spells and comforting him when he felt down. Ron, who, despite his quick temper, had always managed to be there for Harry, beating up on Draco, sacrificing himself in giant chess games, and always with an unwavering belief in Harry's abilities. Hermione, who always used her quick logic to help Harry out in numerous occasions, who always pushed Harry to be something better than he was already. His mother and father, who had loved Harry so much that they were willing to die for him. Hagrid, who had also loved Harry so much, was so proud of him that he died protecting him. If it weren't for these people, Harry wouldn't be the same person he was today.

"Thank you, Hermione."

Hermione smiled and threw her arms about him, hugging him close. "You're welcome. Will you be alright now?"

Harry blushed, embarrassed. He had never gotten quite used to Hermione's emotional displays. "Yeah, I think I'll be fine," he answered, hugging her back.

Hermione pulled back and looked Harry in the eye. Maybe it was a trick of the light, maybe it was the way the shadows played on his face, but for that one moment Harry looked so vulnerable and helpless, so in need of attention, that it made her heart go out to him. "Oh Harry…" she sighed, her eyes filling with tears. She always tried the best she could to comfort him, because to her it seemed that Harry always had so much horrible stuff happening in his life, had always been so deprived, that he needed all the comfort he could get. But the pain she saw now in his eyes ran so deep that she couldn't find any words to offer him. Words, she thought, were always so clumsy when it came to expressing your feelings. They were fine for textbooks and spells, but they just couldn't cut it when you were trying to tell somebody how much you cared. It had always been easier with Ron, because no matter how much they fought they had always connected on a much deeper level. Harry, however, when he was in one of these moods was always unreachable to her. So, without even thinking, Hermione leaned forward and claimed his lips with her own, trying to make the pain go away.

Harry's eyes shot wide open. She wasn't…kissing him, was she? Didn't she date Ron? But as she continued to hold him, to caress his lips with her own, Harry found it didn't matter anymore. It felt good, and it was what he had been searching for these past few months. A way to lose himself. Moaning a little, he reached about Hermione's back and pulled her closer, deepening the contact. 

Hermione sighed and allowed Harry to pull her closer, to kiss her harder. His reaction thrilled her. He was really all right, he *could* be reached. She responded to the urgency in his kiss, brushing away the tears tracing their way down his cheeks. /Ron/ came a thought, faraway and almost unheeded. /What about Ron?/ Guilt flashed suddenly through Hermione. Ron was her boyfriend, and here she was kissing Harry. Harry, one of her best friends. But…he was just a friend, wasn't he?

 How long they stayed like that, she didn't know, but they pulled quickly apart as they heard footsteps making their way up the staircase.

It was Ron. He poked his head in the door and surveyed the scene before him. Hermione was sitting on Harry's bed, and Harry was sitting looking flustered beside her. "Are you two alright?" he asked, screwing up his face.

"Yes, we're fine," answered Hermione with a smile.

"Right." There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, then he said, "It's dinner time. Are you coming?"

"We'll be right there," said Hermione.

With that, Ron withdrew his head from the door and walked back down the stairs. 

Hermione stood and gathered her books together, then looked to Harry. "We can finish the lesson after dinner, if you'd like," she said hesitantly.

"That would be good," Harry said ruefully, "or else I don't think I'll ever get this down." He smiled up at her. Whatever had happened between them just then, they would still be friends.

Hermione smiled back, grateful for once at Harry's nonchalance.  "Right. Let's go eat."

A/N: Yeah, like I said before, this is repost; I just made a few grammatical changes. But reviews would still be appreciated! Thanx~


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